


The history of a name

by ViserraBlackfyre233



Series: The Era of Madness and Its Fiery Rebellion [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dornish History, Elia Martell-centric, F/M, Female Character of Color, POV Character of Color, POV Elia Martell, rhaenys history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27187355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViserraBlackfyre233/pseuds/ViserraBlackfyre233
Summary: Instead she was witnessing before her very eyes the dance of ghosts that came with such a name and the numerous tragic fates that could befall her precious first born. Mournfully her thoughts echoing her aunt’s, “To be given such a cursed name I wonder what fate awaits you, my precious sun?” A sob of escapes her lips.
Relationships: Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen
Series: The Era of Madness and Its Fiery Rebellion [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971955
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	The history of a name

**Author's Note:**

> Hello you guys I'm back with another story in the all these years universe and getting over my legendary writers block after years! This time I'm writing a story from the perspective of Elia Martell over the naming of her first born child princess Rhaenys and how she feels about this, hopefully I did a good enough job of making Elia feel like a real person and not a card board cut out, and a complex woman with real thoughts and feelings . Also hopefully you enjoy my oc Sarra the younger-half sister of princess Lorenza and Lewyn by many years.  
> Comment below and let me know what you think! So excited to write more from Elia's perspective in the future!  
> Also let me know if their are any mistakes as I am posting this way late at night if the comments below!

(Elia’s Pov)  
Awoken she had from the exhaustive state from her grueling battle with childbed. No one had ever in the nine moons of Elia’s pregnancy gently sat her down and explained how painful it could be. It had left Elia with her vision blackening out. Barely did she catch a glimpse of her sweet babe being taken away in the warm embrace of the mid-wives of the castle helping its maester. 

Flash backs of what had happened the night before came back to Elia. The child she had fought so fiercely to bring into this world. Remembering screams ripping themselves from her parched throat in her struggle. To her hands being restrained by the smooth hands of mid-wives who held her down as she attempted to claw away at the very thing down their causing her such great pain all the way her ladies stared helpless at her. 

Coming back into the present she thought with a dazed look forming across her face and a content smile forming on her lips, “But it was all worth it, to bring my child into this beautiful world I’ve planned for them.” Elia in her excitement to finally become a mother where most women her age had a child or three mapped out everything she wanted to teach them. 

Speaking of, suddenly her eyes shot open with wild panic when she frantically remembered her child and wondered where her little one was. Already she felt the fierce need to protect this child who was a part of her brought into the world and wondered if her mother felt a similar feeling when Elia had come into this world. 

Allowing her eyes to dart around the room searching for her child in vain, he or she wasn’t there. She found herself wondering with great fright, “Where is my child?” 

This was all that consumed Elia’s thought before more memories came back to her. Apparently her child had been born on Dragonstone instead of in the water garden’s like she always wanted and had planned discuss with her husband when he returned from the capital but the little one had come a moon earlier than expected. But instead she was inside her apartment within the Stone drum tower. Which was a massive tower that loomed above the rest like a dragon spreading its wings inside its hearth upon this hellish island in Elia’s opinion. 

What with all the booming and rumbling sounds that came with the fierce storms surrounding this island that kept Elia up for moons when she first arrived. Nothing like her beloved Sunspear that shield her comfortably from the fiery storms that sometimes rocked Dorne’s coast. But most of all it was a place where she was truly in her element having real political power and holding all the cards. Sunspear’s courts were full of intrigue and songs of scheming done by Dorne’s lords and ladies. With the princes and princesses of house Martell the puppeteers that pulled their strings to guide them into the positions they desired. And Elia thoroughly enjoyed playing these games. 

But at least Elia had managed to bring from home some things that made her smile. Such as her wonderfully large, feathered bed covered in the softest of silks dyed a soft orange and over it a recently purchased large piece of black fur. It had brought her warmth at night upon this cold island that she hadn’t known since leaving Sunspear. Or nailed to a wall a clothe of silk that proudly held the sun and spears of Elia’s house. And the beautiful intense scent of spicy incense flowing from golden objects to the potted plants she had brought with her that she was sure could survive such a place like Dragonstone. 

Now that she had established where she was, and confusion faded away into sharp focus. Making the quick decision to look for her child herself despite the warning bells in her going off that this was a bad idea. Barely did Elia move to get up from the bed when a groan of pain escaped her chapped lips while her thin hands softly clutched at her stomach that burned with harsh streaks of burning pain. 

“Easy my beloved niece.” The gentle rumbling of her aunt Sarra greeted her ears. Smooth hands pushed her back into the warm embrace of fur and the softness of silk with a gentleness of a protective mother. 

“Where is my child?” Managing to get out the question on her mind with gritted teeth to the point crimson dripped down upon her thin lips. 

“Your daughter.” Aunt Sarra whispered comfortingly, “She is being watched over by your ladies as I care for you.” Suddenly a warm wet clothe was pressed against her forehead, “Rest niece” Sarra ordered with gentle sharpness entering her tone. 

“A daughter” she thought happily in a daze. 

Rays of happiness entered her soul that her child had survived the night. She wondered if her daughter looked of Dorne or dragon, “It matters not I shall love her no matter what.” Firmly vowing. 

Suddenly greeting her vision was her aunt who had at some point moved to stand to adjust the covers that she had rustled around in her valiant efforts to get free. Her beloved aunt who was a wise and wonderful older woman who always had time for Elia when her mother was too busy ruling. It was from her Elia first discovered the benefits of pretend to wear a mask of a gentle foolish heart to the point your enemies let their guard down for you to strike. 

“A lesson I learned well many times during my years in Lys.” 

Remembering her epiphany as clear as day she discovered this particular knowledge. The day Princess Sarra’s was pushed too far by the arrogance of a man who thought he could walk all over because he thought she carried no thorns unlike most Dornish women, “Nay her’s are more hidden” Elia purred with great assurance.  
The sight of burning fire in those narrow ebony eyes took Elia’s breathe away because she had never seen her aunt’s eyes carry such a dark emotion. Nor how those full hands shook with the desire to lay fury upon the man’s body. But then a sweet, disarming smile appeared upon her full lips even as her eyes revealed her plotting vengeance. 

“That day I began building my own mask so the fools would underestimate while I slithered past them to gain the ultimate prize.” Giving her aunt a bright smile even though she was pain wanting her to see only the strength not the weakness Elia currently felt. 

Curiously noting her aunt’s state of dress she complimented , “What a beautiful dress, where did you purchase such a lovely color?” 

Covering her full figure and bountiful bust that Elia could never hope to possess not even her pregnancy with her child was a dark green dress of silk. Golden threads that shimmered in the sunlight currently peeking through her own open windows revealed them forming into a burning sun on the full skirt and golden jewelry holding gleaming of rubies. 

“My current paramour provided me the funds.” Her aunt’s voice coy like a hidden secret yet flushed with joy for her compliment. Elia wondered who had caught her aunt’s attention this time and if this paramour would give her aunt a husband that she had never be given before. 

Suddenly her aunt changed the subject with surprising skill, “Would you like to see her?” Her aunt stated gently having finished arranging the covers back into place and distracting her from her away from her thoughts. 

Opening her mouth to speak when another grimace of pain escaped her chapped lips. Rasping out while curling up in pain, “Water…..” She trailed off clutching at her stomach though she sighed with relief when the sweet water full of Dornish blood oranges greeted her lips. 

“Yes” she stated clearly happily noting the water cleared up the fog in her throat, “I would love to see my little Alysanne.” 

Elia had desired to call her child if born a daughter the beautiful name of Alysanne for its beautiful sounds and another more personal reason. In honor of one of Westeros’s greatest queens the good queen herself with the other Queen Myriah in Elia’s eyes. Such a woman like Alysanne who had been wise and fair, and before her time in many ways for the people she ruled over. Especially when it came to the rights of women and common folks alike something rarely seen outside of Dorne.  
“It’s my hope that my little Alysanne shall carry a similar legacy when it comes to my future son’s queen” Elia softly smiled imaging the future. 

“No my niece, your daughter is named Rhaenys.” Her aunt’s gentle lit taking on a tone of anger and those dark eyes showed such displeasure along with her full face that wore a look of deep disapproval, “To give a child of Dorne such a cursed name, I shall not understand that prince’s thinking.” 

Taking out of her happy visions of the future for her daughter she spat out in shock, “Rhaenys!” Great horror upon her face as she turned pale as a ghost from either shock or fever Elia didn’t know. 

Her imagination immediately went to each daughter in the house of Dragons that bore such a name. The first Rhaenys came to Dorne with a desire to conqueror the very people whose blood belonged to a civilization that the Valyrians enslaved long ago. With only Nymeria’s and ten thousand escaping which was how Dorne came to fused with the blood of a people who refused to bow before dragons ever again. What came next where the words every Dornishman knew by heart and could recite with burning passion when Rhaenys confronted proud princess Meria. Whose words echoed in the Dornish spirit to endure the dragon’s fire and blood for the next nine years they endured all in the name of freedom. 

“And the deaths of both Rhaenys.” She thought horror as her mind moved past Dornish history into the death that lead to the Dragon’s wrath.  
The horrible end of Queen Rhaenys when she attempted to turn Hellholt into ashes to force the Uller’s to submit. Who refused with a fierce stubbornness and instead shot a bolt into the eye of the dragon Meraxes. It was said she had either fallen in the sky or crushed by the dragon or tortured to death by the hands of Lord Nadir under princess Meria’s order, Elia didn’t know which was worse. 

“Then comes the tragic queen who should have been.” Elia’s mind whispered convincing of the next Rhaenys who inheriting the kingdom Westeros would have prevented the mess of the dance. Who died under the fierce attack of two dragons and burned in the flames of houses words trying to protect the rights of Laenor’s heirs. 

“My sister has sent word she wishes she could have been here to have witnessed the birth of your first child but is currently dealing with problems.” Her aunt Sarra’s voice took on a note of sorrow for her mother princess Lorenza had a recent bout with the shaking sickness that had plagued her on and off her entire life at the most random of times. 

“I assure you my sweet niece your daughter would have never been given such a name!” Spat Sarra wildly before uttering, “If Lorenza was here to use that poisonous tongue of hers that cows many men over the years.” A chuckle escaped those lips even those soft hands comfortingly rubbed her shaking shoulders. 

But Elia merely stared off into the distance ignoring all the words of comfort her aunt uttered. Instead she was witnessing before her very eyes the dance of ghosts that came with such a name and the numerous tragic fates that could befall her precious first born. Mournfully her thoughts echoing her aunt’s, “To be given such a cursed name I wonder what fate awaits you, my precious sun?” A sob of escapes her lips.


End file.
